Immortality

Over the past few weeks, following the sudden and tragic departure of Dr. Hage G. Geingob, 3rd President of the Republic of Namibia, the atmosphere in our country -- and, dare i say, the world -- significantly shifted. It was mostly shock. Followed shortly by conspiracy theories and the classic polarised conversation on the legacy of Dr. Geingob. But very shortly, it became loss. Shared, painful, humbling loss.

Since then, tributes, testimonies and messages of all sorts have poured into the memory and being of Dr. Hage G. Geingob; all revering his long life of service to Namibia and the world-- first as SWAPO Representative to the United Nations (at the tender age of 23), as the chief architect of the Namibian Constitution and Chairperson of the Constituent Assembly, then as a holder of various key cabinet positions until his ascension to Presidency in 2015.

Many have spoken about his political acumen, principled leadership, visionary foresight, unrelenting Pan-Africanism and unifying spirit. And many have praised him for the kindness, generous, loving nature that he led his public and private life with.

He was, by all accounts, the People's President.

Personally, as far as I can remember, I have only physically encountered him once; in 2021 during a working session at the One Economy Foundation where, expectedly, he came to check in on the amazing, high-impact work that his wife, the former First Lady of the Republic of Namibia, Madame Monica Geingos, was leading. I did not know his person. And, now that I know his spirit of unity, kindness and nationhood is weaved into the life being of Namibia, this does not matter.

I agree with poet Clare Harner who, in 1934, wrote the poem Immortal, and said:

Do not stand

By my grave, and weep.

I am not there,

I do not sleep—

I am the thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight,

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand

By my grave and cry—

I am not there,

I did not die.?

Harner writes this poem as an invitation, at a time of loss and mourning, to look for our dear departed in the beauty of the world and to cherish the memories, values and principles that they bequeathed us. She implores us to see past their physical manifestations -- which at the time of death, are reduced to a grave -- and instead find the gifts that they left us with.

And, for sure, the late Dr. Hage G. Geingob has bequethed us plenty.

One special gift he left us is what I believe is an undying spirit of unity and nationhood-- the ability to perceive Namibia as a House, the will to live in that Namibian House and the unrelenting desire to continuously build that Namibian House for the benefit of all those who live in it. It is a message he has preached since he was the Chairperson of the Constituent Assembly -- back in the late 1980s -- all the way through to his last message to the Namibian nation, on New Year's Eve 2023.

You can tell, from this insistence of a Namibian House, that Dr. Geingob was committed to unity in a way that is different from, perhaps, all other politicians. There was an academic flamboyance to it that transcended mere political rhetoric, but, importantly, that, as was testified during this period of mourning, came to life in his being, his service and his work. He envisioned, helped built and lived with pride in the Namibian House.

Today, as the laying to rest of Dr. Geingob becomes a distant memory for many, I am convinced that his lessons on nation-building and unity will continue to endure and ultimately outlast entire generations. And, indeed, those lessons must continue to guide us as we take bold and decisive steps into securing a green, sustainable and industrialised future.

We have an obligation to remain committed to building the Namibian House; to respect the foundation on which it is built, keep intact the building blocks that make it home, and continuously beam with pride at its beautiful plastering and paint.

And because I know many have taken the vow to do so, I am convinced that Dr. Hage G. Geingob rests in Immortality.

So, let us not stand by his grave and weep. He is not there, he did not sleep. He is the thousand winds that blow, the diamond glints in snow, the sunlight on ripened grain, the gentle, autumn rain, and the day transcending night.?